


the ordeal of being known

by frosty_grass



Series: the ordeal of being known [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Clumsy Merlin (Merlin), Fluff, Happy Ending, I promise, Internalized Homophobia, Lawyer Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), M/M, POV Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Smut, Uther Pendragon's A+ Parenting (Merlin), gwaine is a disaster but we love him, i guess theres a wee bit of emotional hurt/comfort, i need to learn some self-restraint, this started as a 1k meetcute and now its out of control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:20:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29163291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frosty_grass/pseuds/frosty_grass
Summary: Arthur is fed up with his job, and much more besides. Merlin is a breath of fresh air.***Now complete! Check out the series for some bonus content x
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: the ordeal of being known [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2162238
Comments: 196
Kudos: 178





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all you beautiful Merthur shippers, and welcome to my latest procrastination project! Expect some deeply insecure Arthur, wonderfully accepting Merlin, and perhaps a smattering of disaster Gwaine, good-influence Morgana and kind Leon too.  
> A few chapters will require content warnings for implied/described and/or internalised homophobia, and anxiety/panic attacks. I’ll add a note to the beginning of chapters where they feature heavily, but the themes are kinda present throughout so just be careful if this is something you might not like to read about. Rated explicit for the sake of only one chapter.  
> My chapter length is apparently wildly variable, but I’ll be trying to update daily as I’ve got all my chapters written already!  
> I want to thank spies_and_fairytales for being my ever-wonderful beta reader, and for letting me send smut directly to their email inbox. Sorry about that. I hope your mum didn’t see. 
> 
> CW (Chapter 1): mentioned anxiety/medication

Arthur yawned. The chronic lack of sleep was really beginning to take its toll, and he could feel his eyes burning as he stared out of the window and watched the world go past. For the first time since he had rolled out of bed at half past five this morning, he was able to just sit, vacant and gormless, and enjoy the feel of the warm cup of coffee on his fingertips. His phone had rung once, just as he was leaving the courthouse to escape to his favourite lunchtime haunt, but when he had seen the name on the screen – his father – he had ignored it. He would only be calling to reprimand Arthur, again, for their disagreement over dinner last Thursday.

The coffee machine behind the counter let out a burst of steam, and had Arthur been less dead on his feet, perhaps he would have jumped. Instead, he simply raised his cup to his lips, and grimaced at the bitter taste. Arthur wasn’t a coffee drinker, but during stressful cases such as this one, it was sometimes the only thing keeping him awake. It only served to worsen other aspects of his life though, and as he valiantly ignored the shaking hand, racing heart and constant feeling of dread that followed him around these days, he tried to remember whether or not he had taken his meds this morning. He had been stumbling around his apartment in the dark, half asleep – but perhaps it was just one of those things, like forgetting you’ve locked the car because you did it so automatically. Arthur almost couldn’t bring himself to care whether he had or not - it made no difference to the fact that right now, he was feeling an odd but all-too-familiar mix of nerves and numbness.

“This time…” he mumbled to himself. “This time, I’m quitting.”

As if he hadn’t said those words to himself, over and over, after every case closed. Since he first qualified as a prosecution lawyer, he had hated it. Condemning people to long stints in jail, sometimes knowing in his heart that they were innocent – but it was his job to send them down anyway. It was his father’s game, in all honesty. Arthur had just never had the courage to stand up to him and make his own decisions. Every time he had found the resolve to quit, just one conversation with Uther was always enough to force him back to the day job that drained him of life, and love, and everything good. How his father had mastered that perfect maelstrom of disappointment, disdain and quiet, seething anger, Arthur never knew. It certainly wasn’t something he was capable of pulling off himself.

So here he was, at lunchtime on a Tuesday, sipping his coffee, feeling utterly despondent about the state of his life and wondering just what it would take to force him to finally stand up to his father.

As it happened, the answer was quite literally walking towards him – not that Arthur would recognise him as the answer just yet.

The bell above the door chimed, bright and jangly and scraping against the inside of Arthur’s skull like nails on a chalkboard. But something made him look up from his rapidly cooling coffee – in the doorway, wearing a lurid yellow beanie, worn-out skinny jeans, and an oversized sweater and coat combination that looked like it had come straight from a charity shop bargain bucket, was the most strikingly beautiful man Arthur had ever seen.

Raven-black hair, eyes as blue as the sea, and high, sharp cheekbones altogether gave him an almost ethereal look, like he would fit in better to a forest glade on a summer’s day. Arthur watched, transfixed, as he made his way to the counter, pulling a stack of papers from his tatty backpack and speaking animatedly to the barista. When he smiled, a wild, lopsided thing that lit up his entire face, Arthur couldn’t help it. He smiled too, immediately trying to hide it in his coffee cup, in case the other patrons of the café caught him grinning, apparently at nothing in particular. He didn’t know what it was about this man – by all accounts he was gangly and awkward and clearly a little bit eccentric – but Arthur couldn’t look away.

Well, that was until the man turned, immediately catching his eye and making Arthur choke on his coffee. Spluttering, and trying his best to maintain at least _some_ dignity, Arthur tore his eyes away, focusing out of the window and counting the cars going past.

He got to 23, breathing returned to normal and blush rapidly dissipating, before a voice made him jump in his seat.

“Sorry, would you mind if I just sit here to stick something in the window?”

Arthur gritted his teeth. Without even turning around, he knew who was speaking. Gathering his wits, he looked up, straight into those bright blue eyes, gazing at him with a kind of curious intensity that made Arthur’s skin buzz.

He cleared his throat. “Oh. Um. Yeah, go ahead.”

He sat down opposite Arthur, dumping all his papers down in a haphazard stack on the table. Reading upside-down, Arthur learned that they were ads for a local conservation volunteer group.

Between tearing off pieces of Sellotape with his teeth, and carefully sticking up one of his posters in the café window, the man opposite him must have noticed Arthur’s curiosity.

“We all meet up at weekends, do litter picking and tree planting and all sorts. You should come.”

Arthur smiled, lacing his voice with friendly sarcasm when spoke. “You should go into marketing.”

Long fingers gestured to the stack of papers on the table. “Looks like I beat you to it.”

Arthur couldn’t tell you what it was that made him introduce himself, but maybe it was the cheeky glint in this man’s eye as he watched Arthur over the table.

“My name’s Arthur. By the way.”

“Merlin.” Merlin stuck out a hand for Arthur to shake, and hesitantly he took it, noticing how cold his elegant fingers were.

“Wait, like the bird?”

“Yeah, my parents were a little strange”, Merlin explained, pulling a face, as though he was any _less_ strange. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Arthur.”

It was at that point Arthur realised he was still shaking Merlin’s hand, pulling his own hand back like he’d been burned. Despite Merlin’s fingers being so cold from the blustery spring day, Arthur felt warm wherever their skin had touched.

Almost instinctively, he looked around to check there was no one here who knew him, or his father. He didn’t want to face the consequences of his father finding out he’d been _acting like a pathetic girl_ , as he had so lovingly phrased it when Arthur had finally built up the courage to come out to him.

“You look like you need a break from…whatever it is that you’re doing.”

Arthur snorted. “Is it that obvious?”

Merlin just smiled, a small tug at the corner of his lips. Arthur eyed them for a moment too long and quickly looked back at his coffee when he was caught staring.

“What is it that you do? No, no wait, let me guess…you’re a…banker?”

Arthur grinned, despite himself. “Thankfully not.”

“Hmm. The suit just _screams_ six-figure salary. Businessman?”

“Nope.”

“Lawyer?”

Arthur’s resigned sigh told Merlin he was correct. “Prosecution. I hate it.”

“Then leave.”

Arthur pulled a face. _As if it was that simple._ “I wish.”

“Seriously, why not? Just quit. Go live in the countryside. Be a farmer, or something.”

Arthur laughed, and raised a teasing eyebrow. “You can imagine me farming, then?”

“Well, maybe not in that suit, but…” Merlin trailed off, smiling kindly. His tone was less joking when he spoke again. “Life should make you happy, Arthur. You only get one chance at it. Don’t waste it for the sake of keeping other people happy.”

Arthur was shocked that Merlin had sussed him out so quickly. He had never been very good at reading people, except within the parameters of his job, and so he felt almost vulnerable under Merlin’s steady gaze. Arthur was not good at feeling vulnerable.

Thankfully, Merlin stood up, gathering his papers into his bag and pulling on some tatty, rainbow-striped fingerless gloves that he pulled from his pocket. A half-eaten pack of polo mints and three sets of tangled headphones fell out onto the table, and he hurriedly stuffed them back in his coat before giving Arthur a polite smile.

“Well, I’d better be off. Places to be, volunteering groups to advertise, you know. The usual.”

“Oh, okay. I, um. Thanks. For, y’know. The advice.”

Merlin grinned. “The best way to thank me is to take it.” Pausing, he fiddled with the threads hanging from his gloves, and Arthur watched intently. “I’ll, um. I’ll see you around.”

Arthur watched, a little dismayed, as Merlin disappeared out of the door. But just as quickly as his face had dropped at the sudden absence of the stranger, it lit up again when he remembered the very reason he’d been here.

Arthur checked his phone – his lunch hour was over, he needed to be heading back to the courtroom. He stood, draining the last dregs of his coffee and donning his coat, turning up the collar against the breeze that awaited him outside. Stepping out of the doorway, he noticed that it, too, had been plastered with one of Merlin’s posters.

Snapping a photo of the meeting dates and times, Arthur hurried back through the town, feeling just a little lighter than he had done that morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just have a soft spot for Merlin in atrociously mismatched clothing, okay?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off I'd like to say thankyou to everyone who left kudos/comments on Chapter 1 yesterday, reading what you guys thought really made me smile! I hope the rest of the story lives up to your expectations :)  
> Secondly, constructive criticism on my writing style is always welcome in the comments, as well as any mistakes you might spot.  
> Finally, and without further ado, here follows Chapter 2...  
> (rhyming unintentional)
> 
> CW (Chapter 2): mild mentions of homophobia

Three days. Three days, Arthur had deliberated over whether or not to turn up. But now here he was, pulling up to the park in his expensive Mercedes, fingers drumming on the wheel with nerves.

He had cancelled lunch with his sister for this. It had better not be a waste of his day.

Taking a deep breath, he shut off the engine, donned his gloves and scarf, and got out of the car, looking around for the dragon statue that the poster instructed the _Camelot Conservation Crew_ to gather at, on Saturdays at 11am. Sure enough, there was a gaggle of people, laughing and joking with one another, breath misting in the air as though they were dragons themselves. Arthur searched frantically among them all for distinct black hair and blue eyes, and when he initially didn’t find them, he almost got back in the car and drove away. But then he heard running footsteps behind him, and a scuffle and an _ouch_ , and when he turned, Merlin was picking himself up off the grass, brushing the mud off his palms onto a pair of now equally-muddy old jeans. As Arthur watched, he straightened his tatty backpack, rubbed a sore knee, and then looked up, right at him.

“Arthur! You came!” Merlin’s face was full of surprise and joy, grinning from ear to ear. People didn’t usually smile when they met Arthur, but it was infectious, and somehow Arthur found himself smiling too.

“I guess…I thought that a little fresh air might do me some good.”

Merlin fell easily into step beside him as they started to make their way towards the group. Arthur was surprised at how tall he was, almost exactly matching Arthur’s height. Today’s outfit included an offensively ugly pink jumper underneath a green waterproof jacket, and Arthur couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. Thankfully, the object of his bemusement didn’t notice.

“Fresh air will do you a _world_ of good, Arthur. Just forget about the day job and breathe it all in.”

Merlin made a big show of inhaling the cold, fresh air, before snorting out a laugh at his own ridiculous impression. Arthur was beginning to think he was really rather adorable, as well as scarily attractive.

They split when they reached the huddle of people - Arthur hung around at the back of the small crowd whilst Merlin made his way to stand on the low pedestal of the statue, affording him a view of everyone. It seemed like he was the one in charge of this particular rendezvous.

“Morning all! Thanks for turning up today, I know it’s a little chilly, but we’ve got plenty to do to keep ourselves warm! This week I’ve managed to get express permission from the council for us to clear the overgrown footpaths through the woods.” He gestured vaguely over his shoulder at the woodland that lined the edge of the park, and Arthur vaguely remembered being fifteen and kissing Noah Jones from boarding school in those woods, away from the prying eyes of his father and sister eating their picnic on the grass.

He smirked a little at the memory, those hazy days of realising he liked boys more than girls, back before his father had known or cared. Nowadays, he tended to be more careful with his – admittedly, currently nonexistent – dating life. Being spotted dating men by the London lawyer elite circles would surely mean another world of hell from his father.

Just as Arthur was beginning to wonder if he should even be here, the crowd started peeling off, talking amongst themselves, and he realised with a deep flash of guilt that he’d tuned out of Merlin’s little speech. Momentary panic took over as he realised he had no idea what he was meant to be doing – but he needn’t have worried. Sure enough, Merlin appeared at his side, excitable energy quickly dispelling Arthur’s worries.

“Come on, Arthur. Lance always brings a shitload of tools in his van, I’ll show you what’s what.”

“Oh, right. Okay.”

The next half an hour was a blur – Merlin talked at length about the conservation and community work they did, he introduced him to a dozen new people – all of whom were entirely lovely – and generally put Arthur at ease with a cheeky sense of humour, and a tendency to veer off on a different conversational tangent every five minutes. They were hacking back brambles together, Arthur’s coat and scarf abandoned on the floor and sweat gathering on his brow, when Merlin turned the conversation.

“Sorry, I’ve talked so much. Tell me about you.”

Arthur stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow. “Me? There’s not much to know.” He racked his brains for something, anything he could say that sounded interesting – and the realisation dawned that he wanted to _impress_ Merlin.

“Favourite colour?”

Arthur snorted. “Red.”

“There we go, you see. That’s something to know.”

“It’s not very interesting though, is it?”

“People’s favourite colours are always interesting. It tells you a lot.”

“Oh? And what does ‘red’ tell you about me, then?”

Merlin paused, looking Arthur up and down for a moment. “You’re a vibrant person, but maybe you have some build-up of anger, or sadness, or something. You try not to let it affect you, you put on this mask of being all strong and macho and devil-may-care. But underneath it all…you just want to be happy.”

Arthur paused, swallowing hard, trying to keep his face impassive. “You didn’t get all of that just from the colour ‘red’.”

Merlin’s grin got even wider. “No, I didn’t, you’re right. I’m just…good at reading people, I guess.”

“You certainly got me right the other day, in the café.”

“I know.”

Arthur bit his lip under Merlin’s keen stare. A moment seemed to linger between them, and it made Arthur nervous, but in a good way. It had been so long since nerves had felt _good_ to Arthur.

Then, as suddenly as he’d stopped to look him up and down, Merlin turned to carry on battling the brambles. If Arthur didn’t know better, he could have sworn that Merlin’s cheeks were just a little redder than before. _Don’t be stupid Arthur, it’s just the cold._

Arthur shook the echo of his father’s voice from his head, not wanting to think about him right now. Instead, he focused on Merlin, who had just tripped over a root and was stumbling to regain his balance. Arthur grinned, his clumsiness was almost endearing.

He waited until Merlin’s balance (and dignity) was restored before asking the question he’d wanted to ask all morning.

“I want to hear more about _you_. What does your life look like? Aside from all this, I mean?” Arthur gestured around them to the damp woodland, noon sun filtering through the trees to land at their feet.

“Me?” Merlin delivered a particularly good slash to an overgrown patch of nettles, and leaves went flying everywhere. “I guess my friends would describe me as a bit of a free spirit. I don’t exactly sign up to the whole ‘career’ thing…I mean, I work, obviously. A librarian. I have rent to pay. But it’s not what life is about.” He said it as if it was obvious.

“So…what is your life about then?”

“Oh, loads of stuff. Free time with friends. Hiking in the countryside. Camping for a week where there’s no phone service. Knitting. Finding bargains in charity shops. Hockey. Pubs, so many pubs! And pub quizzes, too, I just love a pub quiz…” He pulled a face as he carried on listing hobbies. Arthur wondered how anyone ever had so much energy. With a job that demanded as much of his time and focus as his did, he rarely got time for hobbies, except perhaps an early-morning gym session to wake him up, or a late-night stint on the punchbag in his apartment to take out his frustrations of the day.

Meanwhile, what Merlin was describing sounded more like a dream than anyone’s actual life. The enthusiasm oozed from him, it was clear to Arthur that Merlin loved living and loved to spend his time on the earth doing only things that made him happy.

Arthur listened, rapt, to every word that spilled itself from Merlin’s pretty lips, and found himself wishing he could be more like Merlin.

Eventually, the group reconvened at the dragon statue to eat lunch. Arthur hadn’t brought anything, not even considering the fact that he might have stayed this long, so he nipped around the corner to grab a meal deal. He was just paying, and gathering his things, when a voice called his name.

He turned, trying to find the source of the voice, and was met with a ridiculously charming smile and long dark hair. Arthur recognised this man, Merlin had introduced him earlier – Gordon? Graham? –

“Gwaine. Merlin briefly introduced us. Too briefly, if you ask me.” Gwaine waggled his eyebrows, grinning flirtatiously, and stuck out a hand. Arthur scrambled to shove his crisps into a pocket before shaking it.

“Yes, hi, sorry.”

Gwaine let his hand go and stepped up to the counter to pay for his – well, Arthur wasn’t sure he could call it _lunch_. The man had a chocolate bar, a Scotch egg, and a four-pack of lager. He smirked, and Gwaine must have noticed, because as he gathered his items to leave with Arthur, he pulled a tin from the pack and offered it to him.

When Arthur kindly refused, on the grounds of having to drive home later, Gwaine merely shrugged and cracked the tin open for himself. “If you’re gonna be a princess about it, at least that leaves more for me.”

Although his words were clearly an insult, his tone was so warm and jovial that Arthur couldn’t help but laugh. Something in Gwaine’s manner gave him away as being trustworthy – if a bit chaotic – and Arthur instantly liked him. He reminded him somewhat of a good friend from university, who he hadn’t seen in years.

“I see you’ve taken a shine to our Merlin then?”

Arthur nearly jumped at being called out so easily. Putting on his best poker face, he acted neutral. Just as he always did around his father. _Around everyone._

“He seems nice. Energetic. I don’t know how he has time for so many hobbies.”

“Oh, Merlin’s a wonder alright.”

They reached the edge of the group, and Gwaine sat down on a nearby bench. Arthur joined him, noticing the people he’d already met and trying to remember their names, lest another one of them surprise him in Tesco Extra.

“So, Arthur, remind me what it is you do? Surely a model, right?”

Arthur snapped out of his concentration and turned to Gwaine with a huff of laughter and a raised eyebrow. “Oh, no, but thanks. I’m a lawyer.”

“Jeez.” Gwaine laughed. “No wonder you’ve got a stick up your arse.”

Despite himself, Arthur laughed, taking a bite of his sandwich. “Yeah, thanks mate.”

“Hey, anytime. If ever you want unfettered honesty, you come to me.”

“Clearly.” Arthur carried on eating. “I don’t suppose you know…nobody else here is a lawyer, right?”

Gwaine took a moment to think about it. “No, I don’t think so. Why d’you ask?”

“Just…I’m not sure what my father would say if he knew I was spending my weekends doing…this.” He gestured around him.

“Your dad’s a lawyer too?”

“One of the best, as he loves to keep reminding me. He knows a lot of people. Somehow he always finds out what I’m up to.”

“He sounds like a challenge. Your secret is safe with us, Arthur.” Gwaine grinned, tapping the side of his nose like a bad actor in a sleuth movie.

“Cheers. Want a crisp?”

“Oh, don’t offer food to Gwaine. He’s like a seagull. He’ll keep coming back for more.”

“Hey!” Gwaine protested as Merlin, having appeared out of seemingly nowhere, sat down next to Arthur, so close that Arthur could feel the warmth from him, and chewed on a vegetable wrap. Nevertheless, Arthur let Gwaine take a crisp (although he was fairly certain that he’d snuck an extra three from the packet), and they finished their lunch together, which involved Arthur answering a lot of questions about himself and Gwaine and Merlin insulting one another in that friendly, cheeky manner they seemed to share.

The rest of the day passed in much the same style, and by the time they were packing away their tools into Lance’s van, cold and covered in mud as the sun began to set, Arthur felt more alive than he could remember feeling for months. His shoulders and back ached from the physical exertion, and he couldn’t feel his fingers or his nose from cold – but his rapport with Gwaine and Merlin had quickly built up, and he already felt like he’d known them for years. More than once, he’d found Merlin’s keen eyes watching him silently, and each time he’d turned away, trying not to let on that Merlin, despite – or perhaps _because of_ \- his kindness and good humour, made him nervous.

Merlin followed Arthur to his car at the end of the day, slipping momentarily on the same patch of muddy ground he’d fallen on this morning. Arthur instinctively reached out to grab his arm, bearing his weight and steadying him, and getting briefly lost in Merlin’s bright blue eyes when their faces came too close together.

“You are coming back next week, right?” Merlin sounded hopeful.

_Shit._ Arthur hadn’t even thought that far ahead. His only objective this morning had been to get through the day without making a fool out of himself. Coming back next week would mean making more excuses to his sister, risking his father finding out he had a new hobby, re-arranging his work schedule so that –

“Yes.” The answer was out of him before he had the chance to stop it. He almost corrected himself, almost backed out, retreated to his safe zone. But then Merlin was smiling, genuine and soft, and Arthur couldn’t bear to disappoint him.

“Well. I’ll, uh…I’ll see you next week then, Arthur.” Merlin stepped back, out of Arthur’s grasp, in the same direction he’d come from that morning.

“Yeah. Thanks for, you know…” Arthur gestured around uselessly. “Showing me around.”

“No worries. It’s been a pleasure.”

Arthur nodded, and turned to unlock his car. He was about to hop into the driver’s seat when Merlin’s voice carried over to him through the rapidly thickening dark.

“Oh, and Arthur?”

“Yes?”

“Look after yourself.”

Arthur swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. The way Merlin had spoken was so sweet, so genuine. He had met this man twice, and already he was being so kind to him. Arthur couldn’t find the right words to say, so instead he merely nodded, waved and got in the car, watching Merlin disappear across the park.

As he switched on the heaters, and waited for his windscreen to demist, he found himself with butterflies in his stomach. Usually the butterflies were more like earthworms, and they brought panic, and insecurity, and dread – but this time, they really were butterflies. Butterflies that promised a light at the end of the tunnel, butterflies that promised happiness and freedom and joy. Butterflies in all colours of the rainbow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arthur's got a cruUuUuUsh <3  
> Hope you all enjoyed today's chapter as much as Gwaine enjoyed his lager for lunch. I'll be back tomorrow with some more Wonderfully Supportive Merlin content. We love him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this chapter is a little shorter than I'd like, but...nevermind.   
> Thanks again for all the comments - its lovely when people notice things in your writing that you hadn't even noticed yourself, or give you ideas for what else you can write...bonus content from Merlin's POV, anyone? ;)  
> There isn't really a content warning for this chapter, unless we count 'Uther's shitty parenting skills' as requiring a content warning. He is quite a shitty parent, lets be real.   
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoy today's offering!

The next weekend, Arthur came prepared – his own lunch (not to be shared with Gwaine The Vulture this time), warmer socks, newspaper to put in his car to stop the carpets getting dirty. He even arrived early, and spent a few minutes chatting to Gwen and Lance who, apparently, were a couple – Arthur assumed so from all the fond looks and hand-holding, anyway. Then Merlin arrived to give them all their instructions for the day and the group scattered across the park in little pockets of friends and laughter, gardening tools in hand. Arthur didn’t feel like he knew any of them well enough yet to force his presence upon them, so he just decided to go back to the woods where he’d worked last week. Maybe someone would take pity and choose to follow him.

Sure enough, he only got as far as the edge of the woods before Merlin was at his side again. Arthur didn’t want to admit to himself just how much of a kick that gave him, but the sudden heat rising up his neck and reddening his cheeks left him unable to deny that it certainly made him feel _something_.

Merlin opened with a suspiciously angelic smile and a line that Arthur really should have seen coming. “So, Arthur Pendragon, son of Uther Pendragon, lawyer extraordinaire, have you quit your shitty job yet?”

Arthur stopped in his tracks, half-smiling. “Did you…look me up?”

“Oh, maybe I did. Forgive me if I crossed a privacy line, but you do have an entire _website._ With your face plastered all over it.”

Arthur half-grimaced, half-smiled, staring into the distance. “It’s pretty awful isn’t it?”

Merlin pulled a face, clearly trying to find the most diplomatic answer. “It’s very…professional.”

Arthur snorted, and carried on walking. “Well, at least there’s that.”

“You haven’t answered my question yet, Pendragon.”

Something about Merlin referring to him by his last name made Arthur’s heart lurch, and he found himself trying to disguise a blush, rubbing his face as if in thought.

“No. I…I’ve got a case, I have to see it through…and after that, there’ll be another, and another. You get the gist.”

“Turn them down.”

“It’s not that simple, Merlin, I…I have bills to pay.”

“So do I. But I’m not stressed at my job. Not like you are, anyway.”

“Who says I’m stressed?”

Merlin simply raised an eyebrow. “It rolls off you in waves, Arthur. Anyone with eyes can tell you’re worked off your feet. So come on, why not quit?”

Arthur bit his tongue, trying to hold back from telling Merlin the truth. That was a can of worms he really _didn’t w_ ant to open. But Merlin’s expression was so open and honest, and Arthur just _knew_ that his new friend wouldn’t rest until he’d got to the bottom of the matter. He was annoying like that. So Arthur gritted his teeth, took a deep breath, and told Merlin the truth.

“I can’t quit, because…well, besides the fact I have no idea what else I’d do…my father would go spare. I’m already on thin ice with him, I always have been. One foot wrong means I get an hour-long lecture down the phone, about how much of a disappointment I am to him. I think he thinks that’s what counts as good parenting, or something. What doesn’t kill you…you know. And I know it’s ridiculous – I’m nearly thirty, I haven’t lived with him since I was eighteen, and I only see him once a month for dinner – but I just…I still feel like…oh, it’s too hard to explain.”

“Try.”

“No, I can’t, I –“ Arthur panicked, already feeling like he’d overshared.

“ _Try_ , Arthur.”

Arthur’s eyes met Merlin’s for just a little too long before he heaved out a sigh, and looked away into the distance, trying to put words to the feeling he always carried around with him.

“I guess…I’ve always felt like he’s watching over me. All the time. We share a lot of colleagues, so everything I do gets back to him. Everyone compares me to him. Whenever I meet someone new, they coo over the fact that I’m his son. I’m not my own person, they don’t see _Arthur,_ they just see…Uther’s son. Anything I do is a reflection on him, and as much as he makes me miserable sometimes…he’s still my father, and the thought of letting him down…that hurts, too.” Arthur suddenly found his boot very interesting, watching the tracks it made in the dirt as he scuffed it back and forth.

Merlin was quiet for a few moments, taking in all of Arthur’s little speech. Then, in a voice so quiet and calm that Arthur almost didn’t hear him, “I see you, Arthur.”

Arthur’s heart felt like it was laid out at Merlin’s feet. He’d just admitted his worst fears to a man he’d known for less than two weeks, and instead of the cold aloofness he’d come to expect from his father, Merlin met his admission with warmth, and acceptance. Arthur had never felt so seen, and his instant reaction was fear - but as he realised Merlin wasn’t about to laugh, or jibe, or insult him, he relaxed a little, and suddenly he wasn’t so horrified by the thought of someone else seeing inside his head. Maybe this whole ‘admitting weakness’ thing wasn’t so bad after all. Not when he was admitting it to Merlin, anyway.

Arthur chuckled, feeling suddenly lighter, trying to fish around his somewhat muddled brain for the right words to say. Eventually, he found them. “Thankyou, Merlin.”

Merlin simply nodded, and reached out to squeeze Arthur’s shoulder, smiling kindly. The touch was grounding, comforting. Warm.

Then all too soon he let go, and clapped his hands together, smile lighting up Arthur’s heart like a sunrise to a hangover.

“Right, you. That’s enough talk about shit dads and shittier jobs. You’re here to take your mind off all that. Come with me.”

Arthur watched him go for a moment, picking his way lithely through the undergrowth, before realising with a start that he was meant to be following. He picked his heart up off the floor, marvelled at how it hadn’t been stamped on, not this time, and put it back in his chest for safekeeping.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently my first chapter note about Merlin in mismatched clothing is now appearing at the end of the most recent chapter I posted...idk how to fix that...if anyone has any tips...lemme know!!  
> Anyway, here is chapter four, in which Arthur continues his journey into being a bit more open and honest, with himself and with others (we love to see it!)  
> This chapter contains a description of Arthur experiencing homophobia/the more negative aspects of being gay - despite being LGBTQ+ myself, I don't have a huge amount of experience with this kind of thing, so if I've messed up on anything feel free to let me know in the comments!   
> I also want to say that the verbal exchange between Merlin and Gwaine in this chapter is something I've kept changing my mind on whether to include, but I wanted to keep it so we can see that in their friendship, they reclaim some language that might otherwise be considered ~suspect~ and use it for joking around with one another. It's not intended as an insult, and obviously neither these characters, nor myself as the author, would condone the use of such language unless the other person had explicitly stated they were okay with it.  
> Anyways, I hope you all enjoy today's offerings!
> 
> CW (Chapter 4): use of homophobic language, description of experiencing homophobia

It took them another month of volunteering together before Arthur finally got an answer to a question he’d been trying to convince himself he didn’t even want to ask. Gwaine had joined them today, loudmouthed and foulmouthed as usual, and somehow the topic of his love life had found its way into the public arena, much to Arthur’s amusement.

“…and then, she just buggered off and left! At 3am!”

Merlin chuckled, and shared a look with Arthur. “I can’t _imagine_ why.”

“Shut up, gayboy. I’d leave your twink ass at 3am too, y’know.”

Arthur tensed at Gwaine’s choice of words. The only other times he’d heard them used, they were full of hate, and humiliation, and they had cut him to the core. But Merlin being Merlin, he just gave Gwaine a friendly shove, and called him something even worse, and Gwaine being…well… _Gwaine_ , feigned offence and began chasing after Merlin with a rake. Arthur watched them with an equal mix of confusion and hilarity. He hadn’t previously been privy to Merlin’s sexuality, although he’d had his suspicions, and hearing it mentioned so casually, with no regard for who was listening in – it reminded Arthur just how much of a tight leash he was kept on sometimes, whether by his father or, indeed, himself. Wistfully, he wished that maybe he could be that out and proud, and that his colleagues and father would react with such ease and good humour as Gwaine did to Merlin.

Panting and red-faced, Merlin came to a stop next to Arthur – or rather, he tried, but misjudged his own speed and crashed into Arthur’s shoulder with all the grace of a small elephant. For someone so lanky, he really was incredibly uncoordinated. Arthur stumbled back, catching both himself and Merlin on their feet as best he could.

His breath was momentarily taken away, for more than one reason, and he laughed nervously as the pair of them brushed themselves down, accepting Merlin’s repeated apologies.

Not far behind, Gwaine skidded to a halt in front of them both, took one look up and down them, and smirked. “Merlin’s always throwing himself into the arms of attractive men.”

Merlin blushed, and stuttered, and Arthur was expecting a slick comeback but it didn’t materialise. Instead, Merlin just smiled at the ground, muttered a not-very-subtle ‘fuck off, Gwaine’ and busied himself with a spade.

Gwaine gave Arthur an enormous grin, waggling his eyebrows, and Arthur almost felt as though Gwaine knew something he didn’t.

Nevertheless, the rest of the day went by uneventfully – save for another trip over thin air by Merlin – until the group once again disbanded in the afternoon. The sun was still up this time, early spring blooming into late spring, green leaves on the trees and birds flitting hectically through the branches to find grubs to feed their young.

After swapping numbers with Gwaine so he could send him the group photos they’d taken at lunch – a rare thing, to see Arthur smile in photos as he had today – Arthur said his goodbyes and jogged to catch up with Merlin.

They often walked back to Arthur’s car together, as he parked in the same direction Merlin walked from – and if Arthur had started parking a little further away just so they had an extra few moments to walk and talk, well, that was _his_ business.

Merlin smiled as Arthur fell into step beside him. “Hey, you. Had a good day?”

“Yeah, fantastic. Again.”

“You know, you’ve taken to this like really well. I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting it, after seeing you in that suit in the café.”

“I guess I just needed…something different.”

Merlin chuckled, looking around the park. “Something like that, I guess.”

They walked in silence for a few moments. Arthur desperately wanted to address the revelation of the day, wanted to ask Merlin how he was so casual about it, wanted to open up and tell Merlin that they had something else in common now, too. But a feeling all too familiar to Arthur was holding him back.

Shame.

He knew, he _knew_ that being gay wasn’t something to be ashamed of. This was the 21st century for Heaven’s sakes, the queer community was more visible and tolerated than almost any other time in history. When he had come out to Morgana at university, she’d simply snorted kindly and asked him to _tell me something I don’t already know, Arthur_ , and although he’d never plucked up the courage to join, the LGBT+ society at university had been as loud and proud as could be. But despite seeing himself represented more and more frequently by men holding hands on the street, or characters in TV shows, Arthur could still barely utter the words out loud.

It had started at boarding school – the name-calling, the teasing, occasionally a shove between classrooms. He hadn’t even told anyone, but someone had started a rumour with more truth to it than perhaps they had realised. The more he denied it, the more they latched on to his suffering.

Of course, it only got worse when Uther found out – other parents at the school, expressing concern for his only son in the parking lot when they all arrived to collect their children for the Christmas break. Skinny, soft, innocent sixteen-year-old Arthur got into his father’s chauffeured car to a stiff, awkward Uther who tried to broach the subject of the bullying, but ended up brushing it off with jokes about _at least you’re not actually one of that kind, son_ and rapidly changed the subject.

Arthur in his youth had very quickly learnt, from almost everyone around him, that being gay was not an option. So he did everything in his power to disguise himself, hide his sexuality away until even he couldn’t see it. He started at the gym, building an impressive physique that all the girls in his university classes stared at. He played rugby, and drank beer with the lads, and kissed girls he didn’t like in the back of clubs.

He studied law at university, just as his father had insisted upon, and learned about the hate crimes committed against people just like him.

And now, his job kept him too busy to see his university friends, who he’d been so close to coming out to until they’d all graduated and parted ways, and if any of his work colleagues were like him – well, they were hiding it better than he was. If he were to come out at work, he’d be the first one.

He’d had a few secret boyfriends over the years, men who he’d forced himself to come out to in the desperate hopes of having a love life less dry than the Sahara, but things always went south when they asked why they’d never met his family or friends or colleagues, why he never held hands with them in public, why he rarely went on dates that weren’t just movies on the couch.

And now here he was, walking in step with someone who, based on all the available evidence, should be the easiest person in the world to come out to.

Maybe he could just start by asking Merlin all his burning questions – _doesn’t it bother you when Gwaine says those things? How did you find the courage to be so open? Are all of your friends so accepting?_

But he knew, as soon as he started asking, he’d effectively be outing himself. Arthur swayed wildly between his options – silence or honesty – mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Eventually, he tentatively settled on silence, resigning himself to live in his shell, as he always had, protecting his heart above all else.

But goddamn him, Merlin could read him like a book.

“Something’s on your mind.”

Feeling like a guilty kid caught doing something he shouldn’t be, Arthur knew there was no way back now. Merlin was onto him. He opened his mouth, trying to find the right place to start, but no sound came out. Silently cursing his father for his inability to put words to emotions, he reorganised his thoughts and tried again.

“Earlier…what Gwaine said…didn’t it bother you?”

“Gwaine says many things, all of them morally questionable, none of them particularly tasteful. Which one are you referring to?”

Arthur swallowed, and pointedly kept his gaze fixed ahead of him. “You know, when he called you…and he implied…when he said that –“

“I’m gay?”

And suddenly Arthur was the clumsy one, tripping over his own feet and trying his best to maintain some dignity as his face started to flush beet red. “Yeah. That.”

Merlin grinned, doing Arthur the favour of ignoring his stumble. “Oh no, Gwaine’s allowed to call me a gayboy because we both know he’d never actually mean it. He’s my best friend, I find it funny, and I know he’d stop if I asked him to.” Merlin, paused, solemn, before cocking an eyebrow and shrugging his shoulders. “Besides, I’ve called him _way_ worse. The man will shag anything that moves, you know. And as for twink, I mean…that’s not even an insult, to me. That’s just the truth.” Merlin shrugged, seemingly satisfied with his explanation, but Arthur’s head was reeling.

“How…how…how are you so…” he tried to articulate what he wanted to ask, waving his hands around. He was glad when they finally reached his car, and he had an excuse to look away, fumbling for his keys in his coat pocket.

“So what?”

“So…open? About it?”

Arthur unlocked his car as Merlin shrugged. “I mean, I’ve not always been so chill with it. I’ve had my fair share of struggle, we all have. But I guess it becomes easy when you have friends who literally could not care less. As long as I’m happy, they’re happy. That’s all there is to it.”

Arthur longed to have that. His only source of acceptance so far had been his sister, but given that she was also preoccupied with a demanding job, and hadn’t shared the experience of being subject to Uther’s disappointment at her choice in partners, there was only so much she say to make him feel better. There was only so much she could understand, and Arthur still felt so alone.

But here was Merlin. Merlin, who perfectly understood what it was to be queer, who didn’t seem to have a truly unkind bone in his body. Putting aside his obvious and growing affections for the man, Arthur realised that in their time together, Merlin had become a close friend. Arthur had confided things in Merlin that he’d never told anyone else – well, except for the unsuccessful foray into therapy last year – and Merlin had never shown anything other than understanding, and compassion. Maybe it was that realisation that allowed the words to spill so freely out of his mouth. Words that made him nervous to even think about.

“I’m gay too.”

As soon as the words left him, Arthur felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Granted, his heart was racing as he watched Merlin’s reaction, searching automatically for the first signs of rejection, but he’d said it. He didn’t feel like he was lying by omission anymore.

If he was expecting rejection, what he got was the complete opposite. Merlin stared at him for a moment, wide-eyed, before lunging forward and embracing him in a hug that almost knocked the breath from his lungs. It took Arthur’s brain a moment to catch up with reality, but when it did, he found himself wrapping his arms around Merlin’s skinny torso and hugging him right back.

“Wait, Arthur…am I right…that wasn’t easy for you to say, was it?”

Arthur shook his head as best he could, as it was buried in Merlin’s warm neck, and something between a sob and laugh bubbled up through him and spilled out into the cooling afternoon air.

“I’m proud of you, Arthur! I know how that feels. That took strength.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I feel like I’ve lied.” Arthur’s words were a little muffled, but Merlin must have heard them alright because he pulled back and gripped his shoulders, holding him at arm’s length and staring at him so intently that Arthur thought he might just crumble into ashes on the spot.

“Arthur, these things take time. If you weren’t ready to say it before, then it wasn’t the right moment. But I’m glad you found the courage. And…” Merlin trailed off, a hint of shyness creeping into his expression.

“But what?”

“I’m glad that you trust me enough to tell me that.”

Arthur chuckled darkly. “I mean, I’ve somehow told you every other secret and deep dark fear. I figured I may as well tick them all off the list.”

Merlin joined his laughter then, and Arthur felt so light and free that he might have floated away, if it weren’t for Merlin’s steady hands on his shoulders, pinning him to reality. But for once, reality was good. It was sweet, and right, and totally new, and Arthur wanted nothing but to bask in this feeling for as long as he could.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy weekend everyone!   
> In this chapter we get some wholesome older-sister-Morgana vibes. I'm not sure if it's ever actually specified which Pendragon sibling is the eldest, but given that Morgana seems to think the throne of Camelot is rightfully hers, maybe she's the eldest, aka first in line? If anyone knows who's older lmk!  
> No content warning needed for this chapter :)

Arthur watched as Morgana ravenously devoured her second ham and cheese toastie. It was Wednesday lunchtime, and Arthur had met with his sister in his usual café. A few of Merlin’s posters still clung to the windows, creased and peeling, and it made Arthur feel somehow a little safer, as though Merlin was there with him in spirit.

He hadn’t seen him since their last, pivotal discussion – Merlin hadn’t turned up to volunteering the next week because, according to Gwen, he’d been called into work to cover someone else’s shift. He’d tried to hide his disappointment and spent the day with Gwaine and another new recruit, Percy, instead – or rather, he’d spent his day third-wheeling, as Gwaine seemed to spend more time flirting than working after taking a very quick and obvious shine to Percy’s frankly enormous biceps.

“So, you must have brought me here for a reason? Other than their frankly delicious sandwiches.”

Arthur cleared his throat, and swallowed the instant panic that rose from his gut. “Yes, I, um…I wanted to talk to you about something. I guess…I guess I want your advice?”

Morgana snorted, momentarily taking a break from chewing to stare at Arthur with a look that could only be described as incredulous. “You’ve never wanted my advice, Arthur.”

“No, that’s because it’s usually awful.” Arthur grinned smugly, leaning back in his chair, only to have the smile wiped off his face when the tip of Morgana’s boot smacked into his leg under the table.

“My advice is wonderful and you know it.”

Arthur blinked back the tears gathering at the sharp pain in his shin. “Whatever you say, you hateful witch.”

Morgana’s raised eyebrow warned Arthur not to say any more, lest he end up with something more than a bruised leg. He motioned surrender, and Morgana returned to her lunch victorious.

But their playful sibling rivalry was interrupted by the sudden seriousness of Arthur’s voice as he continued. “I think you’re the only person I can talk to about this, and maybe…maybe I just want someone to listen to me, and tell me that this isn’t the worst idea I’ve ever had.”

“Okay.” Morgana, mimicking Arthur’s sudden shift in mood, shuffled in her chair, seemingly settling in for the long haul, and leaned in, listening intently. “Go.”

“Okay. Well, in short…I think I want to ask someone on a date.”

Morgana grinned, clearly excited at the prospect of her brother’s love life finally being more exciting than a stale flatbread. She had been the only person who ever knew about his previous boyfriends, and it had been a while since there had been any new gossip on that front. “Oh my goodness, Arthur. Who is he? Tell me everything!”

Arthur forced himself not to check over his shoulder for his father’s work buddies. If they overheard, then they overheard. The chances of them even being here anyway were slim. Consequences be damned, he was trying to be brave, in Merlin’s honour.

“His name is…Merlin. I met him…well, I met him in here, actually. I go to his volunteering group on Saturdays. He’s…” Arthur trailed off, trying to think of the right words to describe Merlin. Kind, accepting, funny Merlin. Clumsy, idiotic, charming Merlin. Merlin, whose strikingly beautiful face had appeared in Arthur’s dreams more and more often recently, only for him to wake and find that he’d come in his pants like a horny teenager. Arthur cleared his mind and tried to attach a suitable word to the concept of ‘Merlin’.

“He’s fantastic.” Arthur immediately cringed; ‘fantastic’ didn’t even begin to cover it. “We’re just friends, I guess, but he makes me feel…I don’t know, Morgana. He’s different. He gets it, he gets me.”

Morgana’s grin lit up her whole face. “Ohh, so this _Merlin_ is the reason I don’t see you for lunch on Saturdays anymore? Tell me, is he good-looking at least?”

Arthur rolled his eyes, smiling, some of the tension dissolving from his shoulders. “Is that really all you’re interested in, Morgana? Not, _I hope he treats my brother well,_ not _are you certain he’s not an axe murderer -_ no, just ‘is he good-looking’?”

Morgana shrugged, coy smile reaching her striking green eyes. “I trust your judgement of whether or not someone is a criminal. You do that every day. What I _don’t_ trust is your ability to distinguish ‘good-looking man’ from ‘unwashed sheep farmer dressed entirely in Oxfam’.”

Arthur spluttered. “Excuse me, what’s wrong with an Oxfam wardrobe?” Images of Merlin’s hilariously mismatched clothing choices swam in front of Arthur’s eyes. “Also, when have I ever dated an unwashed sheep farmer?”

“Remember Dylan?”

“Yes, I do, and – okay, okay, maybe you’ve got a point there.” Arthur frowned out of the window for a moment, judging his past self for his tastes. But then the image of Merlin popped back into his head, and he turned back to Morgana, attempting to prove that just occasionally, he was capable of a stroke of genius. “Merlin’s stunning. Just…trust me. Imagine, like…black-haired, blue eyed, prince of the fae realm. Cheekbones that could kill a man. Oh, gods, and his ears are adorable…” Arthur buried his face in his palms, blushing as he realised just how pathetic he sounded.

But Morgana only smiled wider. “He sounds lovely. Will I get to meet this one?”

“Hey, I’ve not even asked him out yet! That’s why you’re here. To tell me to do it.”

“Oh, I see. You need your big sister to give you a kick up the backside before you can find the guts to ask this Merlin on a date?”

Arthur grinned, confident. “I was more thinking that if you told me to do it, I could blame you when it all goes wrong.”

“If.”

Arthur’s smile faltered a little. “What?”

“ _If_ it goes wrong, not when. Give yourself some credit, little brother.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah.”

“And he’s definitely gay?”

“Yes.”

“Then what in god’s name are you waiting for, Arthur Pendragon?”

Arthur halted. What _was_ he waiting for? If there was anything Merlin had taught him, anything Arthur had picked up about Merlin’s life ethos, it was not to hang around, waiting for life to come to you. You have to go and get what you want, take the risks that scare you, do what _you_ want to do, else you’ll never be happy. Surely, even if he got rejected, Merlin would forgive Arthur for trying his luck?

Then Arthur’s phone rang, making him jump, and when he looked at the screen to see Leon from work calling him, he realised he should have been back at the courthouse ten minutes ago.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck –“ Arthur stood, gathering his things and slapping a tenner on the table to pay for his lunch. “Thanks Morgana, you’ve been a great help. Gotta run. Late for work, bye!” With a chaste kiss to the top of his sister’s head, Arthur ran out of the café, and Morgana watched him disappear down the street with a soft smile on her face.

_Finally_ , she thought. _He’s met someone_. Morgana had a good feeling about this one.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating a little earlier today because I'm procrastinating all the other things on my to-do list.   
> Prepare yourself for some Merthur Feels. 
> 
> no content warning for this chapter, just some wholesome fluff!

That Saturday, Arthur arrived at the park with a vague plan and a racing heart. As soon as he got Merlin alone, he was going to ask him on a date. Gritting his teeth with a steely resolve he’d inherited from his father, Arthur got out of the car and looked around. Sure enough, there was Merlin, walking towards him in his usual hurried way. Arthur couldn’t help but smile to himself as he locked the car and made his way up to the path across the park; for all his spontaneity and freedoms, Merlin was sometimes predictable too, and this Saturday morning routine of meeting at Arthur’s car made his heart melt a little every time. It felt like something just for them, a little nugget of privacy at the start of a hectic and sociable day. Arthur wondered what he and Merlin would talk about if they had an entire hour, an entire _day_ just to themselves.

“Oh, morning Arthur.” Merlin spotted him as he approached. “Quit your job yet?”

This was his opening line every week, and every week Arthur replied with –

“No. And before you ask, it’s the same excuse as usual.”

Merlin shook his head and grinned. “Come on then. Let’s put you to work. At something you _do_ enjoy.”

Arthur almost did it, in the single minute he got alone with Merlin as they headed for the dragon statue. But Merlin was blabbering on about the latest book he was reading, and Arthur just loved the sound of his voice so much that he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt. So he bit his lip, and allowed himself to put it off until the next opportune moment came along.

Then, the chaos of another day with Merlin, Gwaine, Lance, Percy and Gwen swept him away for hours on end, their constant laughter as they worked at replanting flowerbeds calming his nerves and almost making him forget about his mission. Even at lunch, Gwaine didn’t leave Merlin alone for a second – so the first chance that Arthur got was at the end of the day, with mud behind his fingernails and aching joints, as he and Merlin strolled back to his car.

There was a subtle tension in the air – or so Arthur thought anyway, but perhaps he was just imagining it – and neither of them spoke until Arthur was leaning against his driver’s door, hands in pockets, biting his lip. His heart hammered in his chest and he kept feeling like it was trying to crawl up his throat to leap out of his body and run away. Sweaty palms, shaky fingers – the only way to make himself feel less nervous, he eventually realised, was to just _do it._

“Merlin, I –“

“So, Arthur –“

Somehow, as if they were connected by some invisible string of thought, they spoke at the same time, blushing in tandem when they realised what they’d done.

“You first.”

“No, you first.”

There was a pause.

“Both at the same time?”

“Okay.”

“Okay. On 3? 1…2…3…can I take you out sometime?”

“Can we go on a date?”

Their expressions mirrored one another, eyebrows disappearing into fringes, uncertain, heady smiles and breathy, shocked laughter.

“Um.”

“Well.”

“I guess…I guess that answers both our questions?” Merlin giggled, he fully _giggled,_ like a schoolgirl, and Arthur thought it was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen.

“I guess it does. Um.” Arthur found himself momentarily speechless as a sudden realisation hit him, and he began to feel a bit silly. For all his ruminating on how to ask the question, when and where, he hadn’t actually stopped to consider what he would do if Merlin said _yes._ He snorted to himself in disbelief, and the truth spilled out of Arthur again, as it always seemed to do when Merlin was staring him down with those striking blue eyes. “I didn’t actually plan this far ahead. I didn’t think…well. I wasn’t sure you’d actually say yes.”

Merlin stepped closer to him, just a little bit, and Arthur tried and failed to keep all the air in his lungs. He could smell Merlin, cheap cologne and sweat and earth, a scent familiar to him by now but no less intoxicating.

“Of course I’d say yes, Arthur.”

“Really?”

Merlin choked out a shocked laugh. “Are you kidding? I’ve been staring at you with my jaw on the floor since the first time I saw you. I didn’t really need to sit at your table to stick that poster in the window, I could have just reached over and ignored you. And then you turned up here, and you were actually _nice_ and _funny_ and _endlessly complex_ as well as completely gorgeous, and –“

Merlin went silent, but not of his own choice. No, he went silent because Arthur’s lips were suddenly pressed to his own, needy and desperate, his hands settled on Merlin’s waist to pull him gently closer. There was a moment where Merlin didn’t respond, and Arthur’s heart dropped through the floor – had he made a mistake? – but then the shock seemed to wear off, and Merlin was giving as good as he got, kissing Arthur with a great deal of skill and even more fervour, pushing him backwards to rest against the car. His hands were in Arthur’s hair, and it was a feeling Arthur loved, especially when Merlin’s fist tightened on a handful of hair at the nape of Arthur’s neck, and it sent electricity all the way down his spine. Even through his thick jacket, Arthur could feel the pressure of Merlin’s body against his own, he could feel him breathing, for a moment he almost thought their hearts were beating at the same time – and then, all too quickly, it was over. Merlin pulled back slightly, resting his forehead on Arthur’s, and when Arthur opened his eyes all he could see was Merlin’s blue ones, dark and burning under long eyelashes. Neither of them moved for a few moments, except to occasionally press their lips together in soft moments of relapse, panting breath washing each other’s faces, gentle fingertips exploring from temple to cheek to jaw and back again.

Merlin was the first to speak. “About that date…”

“Mmmhm?” Arthur chased Merlin’s words with a soft kiss pressed to the corner of his mouth.

“Come round tomorrow at 10, I’ll text you the address. Wear walking boots and a good coat. Bring your car.” Merlin pressed another, longer kiss into Arthur’s mouth, holding his face between long, cool fingers, then pulled back, winked at him, and walked away, spring in his step.

Arthur just managed to mumble an _okay_ under his breath, unable to tear his eyes away from Merlin’s retreating figure. He could still taste him on his lips, polo mints and fresh air, and to Arthur it was like a lingering promise of better things to come. Merlin tasted like adventure, he tasted like hope. More than anything, though, he tasted like coming home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tHEy KiSSeD TheY kisSED thEY fUcKInG KI-


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A whole week of posting my Merthur ramblings for you guys to read! You've been so kind, I really appreciate all your comments and kudos, and I love hearing what you think <3  
> Hopefully this chapter lives up to your expectations! I'm USELESS at thinking of good date ideas in real life, no matter for fiction, but one of my fave hobbies is hiking and so is Merlin's, so here we are. Enjoy!

_Knock knock knock._

There was a shuffling behind the door before it opened and Arthur’s heart skipped a beat. Merlin looked _wonderful._ Walking boots and a ridiculous multicoloured woollen bobble hat (with tassels, no less) had never looked so good on anyone, Arthur was certain. He wore all black today, a pair of baggy utility trousers that Arthur had seen him in before, and a long-sleeved thermal underlayer that Arthur definitely _hadn’t s_ een before. It hugged his torso just right, and Arthur found himself staring for just a little too long as Merlin leaned in the open doorframe, one arm stretched above his head like a cat, fingertips resting on the top of the door.

Arthur forced himself to look away from the shirt, and blurted the first thing he could think of to dispel the tension rapidly growing in his mind, and his pants. “Um. Hi. Nice…nice hat.”

Merlin froze for a moment, worry suddenly clouding his features. “You hate it, don’t you?”

Arthur couldn’t hide his amusement, try as he might. “I wouldn’t wear it myself, let’s just say that.”

Merlin huffed, shaking his head, but he was grinning again as he invited Arthur into the house. “Come in, I’m just trying to find my keys. And my phone, actually. And my coat.”

Arthur shook his head as he stepped inside and shut the door gently behind him, trying to keep the cold outside. Trust Merlin to be running around his house like a headless chicken, and still managing to look _that_ good whilst doing it.

Arthur listened to the scuffling and clanging of Merlin’s lateness whilst he took in his surroundings. The tiny terrace on the outskirts of town had a small, well-tended garden with flowers climbing up the walls, and the inside gave off the same organic feel. The walls were painted a soft primrose yellow, and splotches of paint in all colours had dried onto the scuffed wooden floors. The mirror on Arthur’s left was cracked, but it reflected the crowded coat rack on the opposite wall, beneath which lay a disorganised pile of muddy shoes.

It instantly felt like a home, much more so than Arthur’s stark, modern flat. Arthur found himself wanting to explore every room, pick up all the trinkets and turn them over between his fingers. Where had they all come from? What did they all mean to this whirlwind of a man who’d quickly become the calming eye of the raging storm in Arthur’s mind?

But just then, Merlin emerged from the kitchen, shoes on his feet and donning a thick waterproof coat and a well-worn red scarf that suggested Arthur might have been underdressed for the weather.

“I’m ready!”

Arthur found his voice, somehow. “I assume we’re taking my car?”

“If it’s not too much trouble.”

“I suppose the alternative is walking, is it?” Arthur called back over his shoulder as he opened the front door and stepped out into the breeze.

“We’ll be doing enough of that today, thanks.”

“How far away are we driving?”

“Oh, only about ten miles.”

“Car it is.”

Ever the gentleman, he made a point of opening the passenger door for Merlin before getting in his own seat and starting the engine. He could feel Merlin’s eyes on him as soon as he pulled off from the kerb. Focusing resolutely on the road ahead, Arthur glanced occasionally in his rearview mirror, but the more he ignored Merlin, the more he found himself slowly starting to blush the same colour as his crimson scarf.

“Arthur?”

“Yes, Merlin?” Finally he glanced over, just momentarily, to see Merlin staring at him with the ghost of a smile and a raised eyebrow.

“You don’t know where we’re going, do you.”

As if the universe wanted to prove Merlin’s point, they came to a junction, and Arthur realised he had no idea which way to turn.

“Ah.”

“Go left.”

Arthur did as he was told, and the rest of the journey passed with relative ease, the air between them thick but comfortable.

No more than ten minutes later, having driven largely through increasingly beautiful countryside and windy narrow lanes, Arthur pulled into a potholed layby at Merlin’s request, wincing as he heard mud splatter up the side of his freshly-polished Merc, and cut the engine.

Merlin’s profile, backlit by bright daylight, made Arthur suddenly nervous again. What if Merlin got bored of him today? What if they couldn’t find anything to talk about? What if –

“Come on, you. I didn’t bring you here just for you to sit in the car and stare at me all day.” Merlin grinned teasingly and got out, straight into a muddy puddle.

Swallowing his nerves alongside the bubble of laughter that arose from the look of sheer indignation on Merlin’s face, Arthur followed suit. 

The road they had parked on wound its way slowly up the hillside, purple heather moorlands stretching off on either side. Down the hill lay an expansive view over the outskirts of town, distant and tiny, and up the hill was a great crest of dark, craggy rock that loomed imposingly over them. Sheep meandered through the wilderness, trotting away from the car in flighty clusters as the two men set about putting their coats and backpacks on. The weather seemed as though it was going to give them a fighting chance, Arthur noted, with some relief – the skies were intermittently grey but the cloud was high. Besides, the air didn’t feel right for it to rain. Arthur always liked to think he could tell.

He didn’t realise he’d been stood, admiring the view, until Merlin appeared in the corner of his eye and followed Arthur’s eyeline.

“Lovely, isn’t it?”

Arthur looked back at Merlin. “Stunning.”

“Wait til you see the view from the top.”

Arthur balked, and spun to face the cliff. Had Merlin listed _climbing_ as one of his hobbies, that first week at the park? Arthur didn’t think so, surely he would have remembered that one – a childhood fear of heights had Arthur convinced that all climbers were, to some degree, crazy. “Up there? We’re going – up – Merlin, I can’t climb that!”

Merlin snorted. “Oh I wouldn’t worry, neither can I.” Cheeky grin fixed on his elfin face, and a spring in his step, Merlin set off up the road. “There’s a footpath to the top. No climbing required!”

Arthur breathed out a heavy sigh, relief flooding his body, and hastened to catch up with his companion. As much as he liked Merlin, he wasn’t about to freeclimb a rock face to prove his affections.

Instead, he followed Merlin through the wilderness for the better part of half an hour. They trudged up winding, rocky footpaths around the edge of the rock overhang, traversing a bank which seemed just as steep in parts as the cliff itself. Merlin was as companionable and talkative as usual, and before long Arthur found himself relaxing into their easy back-and-forth banter, laughing so much he got out of breath from walking and talking too much at the same time. Besides the fact that they were alone, it didn’t feel much different to their usual meetups.

Until they reached the top, and Merlin settled himself comfortably on the edge of the rock, legs dangling over the sheer drop, and motioned for Arthur to sit next to him.

Cautiously, he did so, sitting close enough that their thighs and arms and shoulders were just touching. He resisted the sudden urge to grab Merlin’s hand as a safety net to stop him falling off – if he was going to fall, he didn’t want to drag Merlin with him. His heart was racing, whether from the height or his proximity to Merlin he wasn’t sure, but as he let himself relax a little and raised his gaze to the view, he found himself breathless.

Arthur could see for miles, purple moorland transitioning seamlessly into green countryside, then the outskirts of the city. Tiny cars travelled like ants along tarmac veins, dwarfed by the vast scale of the rolling grey sky. His life looked so trivial from up here. All of his problems, his boring work life, the overbearing presence of his father – all of them were contained within a tiny segment of the world he could see from his vantage point next to Merlin. Up here, it almost felt like they couldn’t hurt him.

A gentle breeze rushed past them, purple heather swaying like waves on a calm ocean.

Merlin noticed his awed expression. “You like it?”

“Merlin, it’s…it’s wonderful. How did you find this place?”

“An old friend of mine brought me up here once or twice. Will. He’s moved away now, but…I like to come here, when I can.” He paused, and his blue eyes found Arthur’s, the pair of them matching, like the sky on a sunny day. “Besides, it’s far enough from the city that you won’t have to worry. You know, about your father’s friends, and all that.”

“It’s perfect. Thankyou.”

Arthur wove his fingers into Merlin’s, squeezing gently in a small show of gratitude and affection. He couldn’t help but notice Merlin’s smile, radiant as always, accompanied by a blush that rose up his neck and into his cheeks. It still caught him unawares, despite the fact that he’d known Merlin for weeks now and his smile was possibly the most familiar sight of him Arthur had seen. The feeling of Merlin was, increasingly, intoxicating. He seemed to light up Arthur’s entire life, like he was seeing in colour after such a long time of faded undertones. Glittering sea blue, midnight black.

The feeling of soft understanding spread from their intertwined fingertips, gradually dissolving into a loaded tension which built and built until Arthur couldn’t stand it anymore, and leaned in slowly, praying that Merlin would reciprocate. Arthur should have known better than to doubt the energy between them, because _of course_ Merlin wanted him too. It was clear as day in the way his lips caught Arthur’s, cool and soft and insistent, and Arthur melted like butter into his touch. One hand made its way up, fingertips tracing Merlin’s jaw, his neck, pushing gently into his hair and promising silently to never let go.

They stayed like that for what felt simultaneously like a second and an age, the lines between them becoming so blurred that by the time they finally pulled apart, Arthur couldn’t tell where he ended and where Merlin began.

“So…” Merlin murmured, once the sound of the wind through the long grasses had settled comfortably between them, breeze plucking the heat from their skin, cooling them after their walk. “I have to ask…how long…did you feel…like this?” He gestured vaguely between them.

“Long enough.”

“Oh come on, Pendragon.” Merlin leaned away and elbowed Arthur in the ribs, grinning. “Don’t go all shy on me now. I want a proper answer.”

Arthur sighed, resigned to once again handing over his well-guarded truths to Merlin’s care. “Alright, fine. If you must know. To be honest with you…I thought you were beautiful the moment you walked in that café. And then you actually spoke to me, and…” he broke off, lingering in the memory for a moment. “And it was like…it was like you just _saw_ me, right away. And then you convinced me to do something a bit outside of the box – which I’ve loved, by the way – and then, for a while it wasn’t even about…this.” He mimicked Merlin’s gesture. “You just became a friend. Albeit a very attractive one.”

Merlin nodded, and Arthur could see him absorbing all the information, storing it away inside that pretty head of his. Then he turned, stormy blue eyes travelling over the expanse of beauty in front of them. “So, when did that change?”

“I guess…I mean, I always fancied you. Even if I didn’t think I stood a chance. But then Gwaine made those comments, and…well. You’re always on about taking every chance you get, and all that stuff.”

“I’m glad you took this particular chance.” Merlin’s smile was cheeky, and glowing, but his eyes were soft and genuine. Arthur found himself staring back, a little lost in Merlin’s gaze.

“Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone was wondering, the scenery described in this chapter is loosely based off Curbar/Froggatt Edge in Derbyshire, which is just such a stunning place and I could definitely see our boy Merlin dragging his date up there for a windswept walk with a view hehe


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's and tomorrow's chapter are a little shorter than I'd like but between eating, sleeping and working full time I just can't be arsed today to make them any longer haha  
> No CW for this chapter, just some Wholesome Leon content! (finally!)

The week after their first date saw Arthur more distracted than ever at work. He kept thinking about it – the view from where they had sat so close together, the windswept, boulder-strewn scenery they’d walked through afterwards, lost in conversation and tentative hand-holding and easy laughter and kissing. Merlin’s idea of a hike for a first date had turned out to be perfect. It seemed that whenever Arthur felt fresh air in his lungs, he relaxed. Or maybe it was because he was always around Merlin – Arthur couldn’t tell. To him, Merlin _was_ fresh air – the man’s spirited, free outlook on life was one of the things that attracted Arthur to him most. He was entirely different from everyone else he knew.

Arthur’s phone buzzed on his desk, and he sat up a little straighter to read it.

From: Merls

Received: 15:06pm Wednesday 20th May

_By the way, when I asked you on a second date I meant it’s your turn to take me out. If you need ideas text Gwaine ;)_

Arthur smiled, unable to contain the swell of happiness and excitement in his chest. He was midway through typing a reply when his text alert went off again.

From: Merls

Received: 15:08pm Wednesday 20th May

_Actually, don’t ask Gwaine. He’ll tell you to take me to an orgy, or something._

From: Merls

Received: 15:09pm Wednesday 20th May

_I hate orgies._

Arthur bit his lip as his thumbs hovered over the screen, trying to think of an adequately biting response.

To: Merls

Sent: 15:11pm Wednesday 20th May

_Fuck, you’ve foiled my plans. Was going to take you to my secret underground sex lair._

From: Merls

Received: 15:12pm Wednesday 20th May

_How romantic._

“Arthur, mate, have you got the file for the Montgomery case?”

Just like that, Arthur was snapped from his daydreaming as though a bucket of cold water had been poured on his head. He dropped his phone on the desk as though it burned, and fumbled about for the file.

Leon, perhaps the only person he worked with who he might even vaguely consider a friend, watched him with a keen eye. Arthur tried his best to ignore him.

“You okay, Arthur?”

“Hmm?”

“You alright? You seem a little out of it this week.”

Arthur finally found the file, and handed it across, finally looking up to see Leon in full court dress, cape and white necktie and all. That was something else Arthur hated about the job - the ridiculous uniform.

“Arthur?”

“Oh, yes. Sorry. I, uh…I’m just a bit distracted by something. Nothing to worry about.”

Arthur turned to his laptop, trying to hide his blushes in the screen. It didn’t work.

“Distracted by something? Or some _one_?”

_Damn Leon and his incredible perceptiveness_ , Arthur thought. Not that his observations of Arthur had ever noted his sexuality, thankfully. Trying to keep it that way, Arthur swerved the conversation into safer waters.

“Um. No, no, I just…family stuff, I guess.”

Well, it wasn’t entirely untrue. He seemed to always have his father hanging over his head.

Leon, clearly seeing right through Arthur’s lies but thankfully not the kind of man to push him on it, just smiled and nodded. “Sure. Let me know if I can be of any help. You know, to talk, or whatever.”

His offer momentarily floored Arthur, small as it may have seemed. Offers of personal support were few and far between amongst the hard-nosed, steely types he worked with. Perhaps Leon was a better man than Arthur had taken him for. _Or perhaps he just wants to find out your secret and expose you to everyone else._

Arthur pushed the thought away as he watched Leon’s retreating back leaving his office. He wouldn’t let paranoia get the best of him. Instead, he tried to channel his rapidly growing ‘inner Merlin’, as he liked to call it, and allowed himself to place some tentative faith in Leon’s good heart. Perhaps there was one person in this godforsaken job he could trust.

He stewed at his mahogany desk for a few minutes more, weighing his options in his mind. Arthur wanted to take Merlin for dinner – one of his few pleasures in life was good food – but everywhere he knew was dangerously close to his workplace, and the frequent haunts of his father and his colleagues. Arthur also wanted to test the waters with Leon, to find out if he really was as trustworthy as his kind, open face would suggest.

Decision made, he rose from his desk, brushing the creases from his shirt, and made his way out of his office and down the hall to Leon’s.

A shout of _come in_ gave Arthur permission to open the door, hovering anxiously in a space that wasn’t his own, under the gaze of someone who was clearly wondering what on earth he was doing there so soon after their last meeting.

“Leon, I, uh. Perhaps you actually could help me, with something.”

“Of course. What do you need?”

“I need…I need recommendations for somewhere nice to eat. Outside the city though.”

Leon stared for a moment, smile half-caught on his face. Then he let out a huff of laughter, as if he’d been expecting something a lot more momentous to come out of Arthur’s mouth.

“Okay, well. Let me have a think. I’ll drop a list on your desk by the end of the day.”

Arthur sighed in relief when Leon didn’t ask who he was treating to dinner. He thanked him, and shut the door behind him as he walked off down the corridor.

By the end of the day, and with a quick google of all the places on Leon’s neatly handwritten list, Arthur narrowed down his options to just one: _The Rising Sun._

To: Merls

Sent: 18:34pm Wednesday 20th May

_Monday evening, I’ll pick you up 7pm. Wear something nice. And be hungry!_

From: Merls

Received: 18:38pm Wednesday 20th May

_Yes, sire! I’m always hungry. Can’t wait x_


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so here's a painfully short Chapter 9, maybe one day I'll come back and edit it to be longer, who knows?? The next chapter is a lot longer I promise haha  
> Heavy CW for this chapter re anxiety/panic attacks (described in detail)  
> To be honest, I debated whether or not to keep this chapter in as I know this kind of content can be triggering for some people (including myself) BUT I also believe its important to drag this kinda shit out in the open, so that people who've never experienced a panic attack might get some insight into how it feels   
> If you would rather skip this chapter please feel free, there's not a lot of plot going on, I just wanted us all to get inside Arthur's head a bit more.   
> I'll get back to comments tomorrow evening when I have a bit more time to do so! :)

Monday might have been the slowest day Arthur could ever remember having at work. A new case was slowly unravelling to be something even Arthur considered himself underqualified to deal with, yet here he was, dealing with it. By the time lunch came around, he had the beginnings of a stress headache, and it only got worse through the afternoon.

Emails, emails, emails.

Case files upon case files.

People knocking on his door, expecting answers, guidance, results.

Phone calls bringing in bad news, more documents to sign, more changes to make and _could you please have it done by the end of the day, Mr. Pendragon, that would really take a weight off our shoulders._

At 4pm, Arthur excused himself to the bathroom and had his first panic attack of the week. Constantly, he feared being deemed incapable of doing his job, or unable to keep up with workload, or that someone would find some tiny error in his paperwork from three years ago and sue him for every penny he had.

Dizzy and shaking, he locked himself in a cubicle and slid down to the floor, back against the door, waiting for the worst of it to pass. His skin felt heavy, like pins and needles all over. Panic attacks were a familiar phenomenon to Arthur, ever since he’d had his first one five years ago, but somehow they never got any easier. The dread felt just as real, the fear washing over him in waves just as fresh as the first time.

His usual coping technique was just to breathe – find somewhere he could curl up on the floor and _breathe._ The feeling usually passed after ten minutes or so, and then he would straighten his tie and wash his face and fix his hair and go about his day as if nothing had happened.

So that’s what he did. Several minutes of jaw-clenching, wide-eyed fear felt like hours, but eventually he noticed his frantic heart rate slowing, noticed a kind of exhausted peace settling like fog over the blaring noise in his mind.

Arthur wiped sweaty palms on his trousers, breathing deeply through his nose, and gradually got to his feet, steeling himself for the rest of the day. The sooner he got through the pile on his desk, the sooner he could go home.

His reflection caught his eye as he washed his face in cold water. For a brief moment, he saw what Merlin had seen that day in the café – the bags under his eyes were growing a deeper shade of purple day by day, frown lines becoming more prominent than laughter lines. What was he becoming? Judging by his reflection, he was merely a shadow of his 18-year old self. It only strengthened his resolve to go against his father’s will, finally, and quit his job.

But for now, there were piles of papers to get through before the end of the day – and today, he really couldn’t stay late at the office. He had a _date_. With _Merlin._

The tiniest of smiles pulled at the corner of his mouth, just a hint of joy valiantly returning to sparkle in his eyes, and Arthur returned to his desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would like to briefly add that not all panic attacks are the same, the symptoms listed here are ones that I have experienced or have heard described by friends who've also experienced panic attacks so hopefully its realistic enough.   
> Also, if you are suffering from anxiety (or any other mental health issue) then I'm sending love, I know how hard it can be and I really hope that peace and happiness come your way asap <3  
> Until next time, with lots of love x


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay finally here's a chapter of a reasonable length! Thankyou to everyone who's commented on the last couple chapters, I'm glad you still enjoyed even though they were pitifully tiny haha  
> CW: mention of parent death, mention of anxiety/panic attacks

Arthur took a deep breath as he shut Merlin’s little garden gate behind him, and stepped up to the peeling front door once again. Somehow, he was even more nervous the second time around. The trailing flowers up the wall suddenly seemed very interesting, but then the door opened and –

“Wow.”

There followed a pregnant pause, in which Arthur stared wide-eyed at Merlin – and then:

“You do realise you said that out loud?”

“Hmm? Oh. Right. Sorry.” Arthur blushed as he realised his mistake, before scrambling to regain some dignity under Merlin’s highly amused gaze. “It’s true, though. I mean. You look…wow.”

A simple black button down with black skinny jeans – Merlin seemed to have a habit of dressing in all black for dates – clung perfectly to his body. The outfit was smart, smarter than Arthur had ever seen Merlin dressed before, and it took his breath away a little – especially when he noticed that the top two buttons of Merlin’s shirt were undone, revealing pale skin, sharp collarbones and the knotted leather cord of a necklace, pendant hidden from view. His hair was just as tousled as usual, yet it somehow appeared more intentional tonight, and less like its usual unkempt bird’s nest.

“Hey, don’t sound so surprised. You don’t scrub up too bad yourself.”

Arthur looked down at his freshly-polished dress shoes, black trench coat and ornately patterned blood-red shirt, silently thanking the gods he’d managed to impress with his choice of outfit. Merlin winked and disappeared back into the hallway. “Come in for a moment.”

“What have you forgotten this time? Keys? Shoes?”

Merlin stopped in his tracks, and looked down as if to check he was definitely wearing shoes. He shot Arthur a glare over his shoulder when he realised his mistake. “Very funny, Arthur. Although you _are_ right about the keys. I keep getting new ones cut and then losing them. I think there’s about five down the back of the sofa.”

Arthur snorted as Merlin disappeared, and made himself at home leaning back against the door. He inhaled the scent of aftershave that Merlin left in his wake, and tried not to let it go to his head too much. He was already high on endorphins and anticipation, he didn’t need anything else to cloud his judgement. But it wasn’t long before there was a triumphant shout, and Merlin stuck his head back out from the kitchen, dangling his keys from his fingers and donning a leather jacket that made Arthur’s insides do flips.

“Ready!”

Arthur started the car up whilst Merlin locked the house behind him, and this time it was Merlin who didn’t know where they were going. Truth be told, neither did Arthur, not really – although he’d memorised the route earlier in the day, not wanting to admit to relying on the satnav for virtually everything.

Twenty minutes of dark country lanes, and a near miss with a loose cow later, Arthur pulled into the parking lot of a quaint country pub, and backed his Merc into a parking space. His heart was suddenly hammering in his chest, fully aware that _he_ was meant to be taking _Merlin_ for dinner, and as such it was on him if the food was crap. Or the conversation lacking. Or - 

Swallowing his nerves, Arthur hopped out of the car and walked around the front to open Merlin’s door.

“Maybe when you quit being a lawyer you could be a chauffeur.” Merlin kissed him gently, taking the edge off his teasing words, and Arthur’s stomach was full of butterflies again. Even when their lips parted, they lingered in each other’s space for longer than was strictly necessary, fingers tangling together wordlessly until Arthur made them both jump by pushing the car door shut.

“Come on, you. Let me wine and dine you.”

"Yes, sir. Lead the way."

Merlin let Arthur lead him towards the pub entrance. A narrow path through the garden passed under wooden archways wrapped in golden fairylights, and Arthur almost felt like he’d walked into a storybook. A sign above the door pronounced the pub as The Rising Sun, and it was almost poetic, being exactly how Arthur felt about Merlin coming into his life and shining light on all the darkest parts of him.

The fairytale feeling only got stronger when he opened the heavy oaken front door and led Merlin inside with a shy smile. The pub had clearly been here a long time – low ceilings sported thick wooden beams, warped from years of heat emanating from the open fire that lit one end of the room with a gentle flickering glow. The flagstones beneath Arthur’s feet bore grooves where thousands of people had walked before him. All along the top of the bar was strung a great garland of dried hops, below which hung short rows of empty glass tankards. The front of the bar itself was decorated with more beermats than Arthur could count.

He loved it, and more importantly, so did Merlin, if the look on his face was anything to go by.

“Wow, Arthur. This is lovely. Truly…lovely.”

“A friend at work recommended it to me.”

“A friend?”

“Leon. He’s perhaps the only person I work with who isn’t completely intolerable.”

“Nice to know that ‘not completely intolerable’ is your standard for friends.”

“Shut up, Merlin.”

An eye roll and a bump of the hip told Arthur that Merlin would do no such thing.

“Hi guys, have you got a table booked?” Unnoticed by Arthur, a waitress had approached them, menus in hand.

“Uh, yes, a table for two. The name’s Pendragon.”

The waitress led them to a table in the window, not far from the fire. Thick stone walls allowed for a deep windowsill, on which sat a curious collection of ornaments and trinkets – a wooden carving of a dragon, a large metal coin bearing a bird in flight - that gave the place a kind of rustic charm. This place really was lovely, Arthur thought.

Arthur loved it even more when Merlin shrugged his jacket off, and the smell of aftershave hit him again just as Merlin began rolling his sleeves up to his elbow, revealing slender wrists and deceptively skinny forearms that, Arthur knew from watching Merlin lifting sacks of compost and splitting wood with an axe, were much stronger than they looked. He wore a bracelet that matched the pendant around his neck, a simple leather cord with a rectangular metal plaque.

“It was a gift from my father, before he died.”

Arthur blushed furiously at having been caught staring. “Oh. I’m sorry, I…I didn’t realise he wasn’t still around.”

Merlin shrugged. “It is what it is. It broke my heart, it still does. But I can’t change it.”

“How long since he passed?”

“About ten years. I was seventeen. Cancer.”

“Do you miss him?”

“Every day.”

Arthur paused for a moment, taking in the faraway look in Merlin’s eyes. “I never knew my mother. She died when I was very young. I suppose its not quite the same; I never had the chance to get too attached. But…I think I share a little of your pain.”

Merlin looked back then, meeting Arthur’s gaze, something so heavy and unspoken passing between them. But then Merlin smiled, and the heaviness cleared, and the mood lightened again as he started flicking through the menu, jokes and teases rolling off his tongue. Arthur admired him, responding on autopilot when Merlin asked him a question, but he wasn’t paying full attention to his words. Instead he was imagining, for a moment, the weight on Merlin’s shoulders, of having lost a parent in such a cruel way, so young. And then he watched the light in his eyes, the way his smile lit up his whole face, and realised that Merlin had suffered enough already to deserve all the happiness in the world.

Arthur was going to try his best to give it to him.

When they came to order food, Arthur had barely even skimmed the menu, so he chose the first things that caught his fancy, trying his best to sound calm and composed.

“Are you going to stare at me like that all night?”

“Huh?”

“You know what I said, idiot.”

“Sorry, Merlin.” Arthur laughed, somehow less embarrassed this time. It seemed that Merlin caught him staring a lot. Expending energy for embarrassment on every occasion would only have been a waste of time. “I guess I just like to look at pretty things.”

Then it was Merlin’s turn to blush, a bright red affair that reached the very tips of his ears and disappeared all the way down to the collar of his shirt. “Too bad you have to sit opposite me for a night, then.”

“Yeah, definitely. But I suppose you’ll just have to do.”

“Charming.”

“My charm is my best quality.”

“It’s rapidly becoming your only quality.”

Arthur couldn’t remember when exactly the friendly teasing had started, or when in their relationship it had turned from witty banter into shameless flirting. But when Merlin skewered him with an electric blue gaze as he took a purposefully slow sip from his glass, Arthur didn’t have a single regret.

And then the food arrived, and the rest of the evening passed far too quickly for Arthur’s liking – even if it did turn out that Merlin was a vegetarian, because _of course_ he was – and suddenly they were splitting the bill and Arthur was yawning.

“Am I keeping you up?”

“No, no, just…a tough day at work.”

“Want to talk about it?” Merlin asked as they thanked the wait staff and headed back out into the night. Somehow, his hand found its way into Arthur’s, and maybe it was the simple feeling of being touched so affectionately, or maybe it was the gentle, encouraging squeeze Merlin gave as he laced their fingers together, but Arthur found that to his surprise, he _did_ want to talk about it.

“Actually…yes, I do. Is that okay?”

“Of course.”

Taken aback for a moment by Merlin’s easy words, Arthur searched for the right place to start. “Well, I guess it was just another busy one. And so many people rely on me to get everything right, and everything done on time. And I’m in a reasonably high position, I _shouldn’t_ feel like an office dogsbody, but the amount of paperwork on my desk today just…” he trailed off, blowing air out into the cool night, watching it start to crystallise, refracting the golden glow of the lights in the archways. “And that’s not to mention the fact that my main case is just…it’s falling apart, and if I lose it, it could be a major blow to my career. And then of course, there’s the ever-looming threat of my father. I guess it just…all got a bit much.”

“I’m sorry.” Merlin’s tone was so gentle, so sincere.

“I had a panic attack.” Arthur shocked himself by admitting it out loud. Other than the unsuccessful therapist, he’d never actually said it to anyone else – Morgana knew, but only because she had guessed and Arthur hadn’t been convincing enough in his denial.

Merlin’s fingers squeezed his own again as they came to a stop by his car. “Gods, Arthur. That’s unbelievably shitty.” And then his arms were around Arthur’s neck again, his comforting scent cutting through the nerves in Arthur’s mind. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“That’s okay. I’m kind of…used to them, by now.”

“I’m sorry.”

Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin’s waist, and rested his head on his shoulder, and just held on for a little while. How come Merlin could always make him feel just a little better? It never seemed to get old, no matter how many difficult admissions he made to Merlin – they all seemed to end with a bone-crushing hug, and a warm feeling rushing through him that, if he’d thought about it some more, Arthur might have called _acceptance._

Even as he stood there, feet planted firmly on the ground, cold air and warm hug keeping him anchored to reality – he could feel himself falling. Merlin was something else, something completely different to any of the boyfriends Arthur had had before, and ever since day one Arthur had known, somewhere within him, how he would come to feel about this man. And now he could feel it trickling through his bones, seeping through all his veins and bubbling up under his skin. It felt like golden honey, and hot whisky, and magic.

Clearing his mind as best he could of case files, deadlines and panic attacks, he pulled his head back and gently brushed his lips against Merlin’s. The touch was so gentle he was almost convinced he’d imagined it, until Merlin reciprocated, soft yet insistent. Their lips settled into a rhythm, quickly becoming familiar with one another. Arthur loved the taste of him, could taste bitter wine and mint and the dessert they’d shared, and quickly found himself hungry for more.

Merlin seemed able to read his mind, tangling fingers in Arthur’s hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Arthur’s hands began to wander, feeling Merlin’s body through his shirt, all lean muscle and rib bones. Merlin let out a small moan when Arthur backed him against the car, pressing their bodies together and sneaking his leg between Merlin’s thighs. His obvious arousal only made Arthur’s kissing sloppier and more desperate, and suddenly he didn’t care that it was a weeknight, or that he’d have to be up early tomorrow to face all his responsibilities. All that mattered was Merlin, his mouth and his hands and his body.

“Merlin?”

“Mmm?”

“Can we…can we go back to your place?”

Merlin pulled back a little, just enough to look into Arthur’s eyes. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in tomorrow for some Smut(TM)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've reached the penultimate chapter, and its essentially just PWP haha   
> Fair warning to you all, this is where that 'Explicit' rating comes in sooooo...again, if this kinda content makes you uncomfortable, feel free to skip!   
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy what happened after Arthur and Merlin's second date just as much as they did...  
> (Dialogue? Never heard of it)

The tension between them was palpable as Arthur cut the engine. The sudden silence felt heavy, stifling – but in a good way, like the hot burn of a good brandy. Then they were out of the car, and Merlin was fumbling with his keys in the lock, and then Arthur was pushing him against the front door as it slammed shut behind them. Merlin kicked off his shoes, and they joined the pile in the hall, and when Arthur looked down he noticed Merlin’s odd socks and couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?” Merlin sounded indignant, but the grin on his swollen lips gave him away.

“You’re adorable.”

He snorted, but the sound turned into a shout as Arthur picked him up, struggling against all six feet of lanky idiot, and slung him over his shoulder like a ragdoll, ignoring Merlin’s protests.

“Bedroom?”

“Up the stairs, on the right. Put me down!”

Arthur did put Merlin down, but only when he’d found his bedroom, kicked off his shoes, and shut the door behind them. He dropped him on the bed with a distinct lack of grace, and groaned internally at the revelation that Merlin’s mattress was _squeaky_. Praying that the neighbours couldn’t hear through the wall, Arthur joined Merlin on what, to his great amusement, appeared to be a set of _Lord of the Rings_ bedsheets, and began a gentle assault of kisses from the dip beneath his ear all the way down to his collarbone. Merlin closed his eyes and bit his lip, fingers tangling in Arthur’s hair, and Arthur soaked up the view, trying to remember every detail of it for future reference.

Shaking fingers fumbled at buttons, blond and black hair alike getting more tousled by the minute. Arthur’s red shirt was the first to hit the floor, quickly followed by Merlin’s black one, leaving fingertips to trace exploring patterns down spines and across ribs, silent questions and wordless answers.

Red bruises were already beginning to blossom into gentle purple at the base of Merlin’s neck, and Arthur took his time in kissing the marks he’d left minutes before, marvelling at how glorious they looked on Merlin’s porcelain skin.

When Merlin undid his belt buckle, fingers brushing across the skin of his stomach, Arthur found himself arching his back into the touch, hungry for more. His smartly-pressed trousers disappeared into a crumpled pile on the floor, but Arthur barely noticed, too caught up in Merlin’s touch and Merlin’s gaze and just… _Merlin._

When his boxers met a similar fate, and then suddenly Merlin’s mouth was on him, Arthur sighed, relief from a tension he hadn’t even noticed washing over him. The relief was immediately replaced by a growing buzz, a simmering heat that quickly engulfed his ability to string together a coherent thought.

He almost lost himself then and there, hips bucking off the bed to meet Merlin’s mouth, lost in the feeling. But he forced himself to stop, to pull Merlin back up and kiss him senseless whilst he reined himself back from the edge. He wanted to savour this, every second of it.

Merlin seemed to read his thoughts, suddenly taking his time again, settling his hips between Arthur’s but keeping them mercifully, tantalisingly still as he kissed Arthur’s face, neck, shoulders, anything he could reach. Every time his lips touched Arthur’s skin, it felt so right, so warm. Arthur basked in it, that feeling of being touched, being loved, for as long as he could stand, drinking it up like a man stumbling upon a lake in the desert.

And Merlin, Merlin just kept giving, affection pouring from his fingertips, flowing through into Arthur wherever he touched him.

They stayed like that, kissing and touching and giggling, soft noises in the night, until at some point they both decided it wasn’t enough, and Merlin’s pants and jeans followed Arthur’s to the floor. 

“Lube?”

“Bedside drawer.”

A few moments of fumbling later, including Arthur trapping his thumb in the drawer and Merlin _sucking_ it better – Arthur bit his lip so hard at that it almost bled – Arthur’s fingers were drawing slow, teasing circles, drawing a thread of soft moans from Merlin’s throat. Pushing one finger gently inside, Arthur revelled in Merlin’s reaction, especially when he hit a sweet spot that had Merlin whispering his name in a tone so awed and reverent that it more befitted a church than a bedroom.

Arthur tangled a hand in Merlin’s messy hair, holding him close, kissing his neck as he added a second finger, and then a third.

“Arthur…”

“Mmm?”

“Please.”

Arthur’s stomach twisted at the sight of Merlin, rapidly coming undone on his fingers and begging for more. The heat building in his abdomen reached a level he could no longer ignore in favour of dragging out the experience for as long as possible. Arthur desperately needed Merlin.

Gently removing his fingers, he shifted his body to line himself up. Merlin’s hands settled on his hips, guiding him, and Arthur slowly pushed himself all the way inside, breath catching in his throat before forcing its way out in a broken moan.

Forcing himself to stay still for a moment to let Merlin adjust, Arthur traced his fingertips along Merlin’s cheekbones, completely enraptured by the blue of his eyes and the way his lips parted around Arthur’s name.

And then he couldn’t stand it anymore, and Merlin was pushing at his hips to move him, and the fragmented moans that spilled from both their lips met in the tiny space between them. At first it was slow, _achingly_ slow, all peppered kisses and sweet nothings whispered in each other’s ears – but then Merlin’s hands got desperate, and his kisses greedier, and Arthur was happy to oblige when Merlin pulled him down for a kiss, and groaned into Arthur’s mouth.

“More. Please, Arthur…”

It didn’t take long after that before Merlin’s back arched, obscenities spilling from those pretty lips as he came, hot and sudden, all over his chest and Arthur’s hand. Seeing Merlin like that, feeling his body tense and relax, was all it took to send Arthur over the edge, face buried in the crook of Merlin’s neck as he gasped his name, over and over like a prayer.

Afterwards, when they’d cleaned up and showered together, washing all the evidence from each other’s bodies with gentle hands, Arthur found himself wrapped around Merlin, and Merlin wrapped around him, and as Merlin’s fingers traced soothing circles into his back, he’d never felt more complete.

“Arthur?” Merlin’s voice was sleepy, relaxed, rough.

“Yeah?”

“Call in sick tomorrow.”

_I can’t_ , Arthur was about to say. But he didn’t. Instead, he pulled Merlin a little closer, felt his heartbeat against his own chest, kissed the soft skin of his temple, and decided that this feeling, this moment, was worth a hundred times more than whatever his job could give him. Besides, he hadn’t pulled a sickie in ages, nobody would question it.

He wouldn’t realise it until later on, but the next word out of Arthur’s mouth was the start of the turning point towards happiness, and freedom.

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to Merlin's LOTR bedsheets. They've seen too much.   
> See you all tomorrow for the final chapter! (...or is it???)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, at the finale! Thankyou so, so much to everyone who's followed this story, who's left kudos or comments, I've read every one and they've all made me smile! I hope the final chapter does some justice to your expectations, its here that we see Arthur's life begin to change for the better :)   
> Enjoy!

The next weeks represented a bigger change in Arthur’s mindset than he’d even thought possible, and he knew it was only the beginning. He was still plagued daily by panic attacks and sleepless nights, but it seemed to him almost as if there was a light at the end of the tunnel, and he found himself willing to do whatever it took to get there. He hadn’t been ready, before – too caught up in his misery to notice life passing him by at alarming speed, too in denial to want to do anything about it – but sometime since meeting Merlin, it was as though a lightbulb had come on in his head. _You have to feel ready, Arthur_ , Merlin had told him one night, Arthur’s head in his lap staring out at the moon, Merlin’s fingers threading through fine golden hair.

And perhaps he still didn’t feel a hundred percent ready for whatever it was coming his way – he was so used to the suffering that the prospect of making himself happy felt almost scary – but he knew that this was life, offering him an olive branch. A chance to see the sun again, a chance to breathe the fresh air of freedom, and maybe one day he would have a panic attack that would be his last, close a case file that would be his last. That was an opportunity he couldn’t turn down.

He called Merlin one night whilst driving home from work, to tell him the news.

“Hey, Merls. I did something today I think you’ll be proud of.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I, uh…I’m going back to therapy. I don’t think I was ready last time but…I feel ready now.”

Merlin’s smile was audible down the phone as his voice rang out through Arthur’s car. “That’s incredible. You brilliant, brave man. I’m so proud of you.”

No matter how many times he earned Merlin’s praise, Arthur was always pleasantly surprised by how good it made him feel. Merlin looked at him – at _Arthur_ , who really didn’t see all that much special about himself – as though he were some kind of king, someone to be revered, looked up to, respected. Merlin, who was objectively (in Arthur’s completely unbiased opinion) the kindest, wisest, most compassionate person to ever exist, had chosen _him_ , and in trusting Merlin’s judgement as much as he did, he trusted that Merlin saw something special in him that he was yet to see. But he trusted it was there, trusted in Merlin and in himself, and it gave him hope for the man he could become.

A such, date nights with Merlin were the highlight of Arthur’s week, and he found himself in a better mood on those days, to the point where even his colleagues began to notice.

Leon, in particular, commented on Arthur’s visibly improved mood several times. Eventually, having decided that the man was not about to gossip to the lawyer social circles, Arthur let on that there was a partner involved.

“I knew it! What’s her name?”

Arthur swallowed, and took a deep breath. _Here goes._ “Oh, uh, actually, _his_ name is Merlin.”

“Oh, like the bird? That’s a cool name. Good for you mate, I hope he treats you well, or he’ll have me to answer to!”

Leon’s easy acceptance left Arthur relieved, wondering just why he had been so worried in the first place. And as if that wasn’t enough, the lack of any comment on his love life from anyone else they worked with let Arthur know that Leon was no tattletale. He almost felt guilty for having dismissed him as one of the typical ‘lawyer crowd’ for so long.

The only regret he had about telling Leon was the friendly teasing that soon started, and didn’t stop until Arthur had spilled every sordid detail of his date ( _and_ what happened afterwards) to a grinning Leon who revelled in harmlessly ribbing Arthur until he threw a stapler at his curly head and told him, laughing, to ‘fuck off back to your own bloody office, you nosy arsehole’.

But even with a newfound friendship at work, Arthur had started job hunting, trying to imagine what he might want to be in a world where _he_ got to choose. For the first time in his life, he almost felt as if he might have some control over what the next year or two might look like, and if he was really lucky, he might even get to spend them doing what (and who) he liked.

Nevertheless, he struggled when it came to deciding what exactly it was that would make him happy – besides Merlin, of course. He was accustomed to a certain standard of living – although truth be told, he was rapidly beginning to prefer Merlin’s shabby little terrace to his own extortionately priced apartment – and he knew that whatever he chose to do next was unlikely to pay as highly as his current profession. But how much did that matter, really? He already had plenty of savings in case of emergency, and so long as he had enough to live comfortably, did he really need that petrol-guzzling Mercedes? Or the fancy apartment? Wouldn’t it be so much better to have less, but be content with what he had?

Yes, Arthur decided. He wouldn’t let himself be like his father, constantly searching for a bigger salary, a better bonus. He switched off the salary filter on jobhunting websites, and instead tried to imagine himself doing a day’s work in each of the roles suggested for him. It wasn’t easy, having only ever been in the law profession gave him very little idea what it might be like to be a civil servant, or a manager, or a journalist.

But after what felt like hundreds of job applications, done secretly at work or in the evenings not spent curled on the sofa with Merlin, Arthur finally received an offer for something he thought he might like.

As luck would have it, he was on his lunch break, in his favourite café, when the email came through – _congratulations Mr. Pendragon, we’re delighted to offer you this position. Please give us a call ASAP to let us know whether you wish to accept._

His thumb hovered over the call button for what seemed like an age. He felt as though he was stood at some great crossroads in his life. In one direction lay a perfect reflection of what lay behind him – law, his father’s grudging approval, stress. In the other lay…a complete mystery. New job, new boyfriend, new life. He could have all of that, if he wanted. It was tangible. It was close.

The decision, finally, was easy.

Arthur smiled, gaze resting on the tattered poster for volunteering group that still hung in the window, and hit the call button.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they all lived happily ever after! :)
> 
> Thankyou again for reading, and if you got this far, I've got a little something lined up as a reward...  
> I owe the inspiration for this to ao3 user myrddinthewizard who commented on Chapter 2 and mentioned the idea of some Merlin POV...so I wrote some! I'll be posting it (hopefully) tomorrow, providing I can figure out how to make this work part of a series, and then add Merlin's POV into the series. If anyone knows how to do that, feel free to leave me some tips in the comments haha
> 
> Anyways, you've all been lovely. Until next time, adios x


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